The Empty Place
by Carla K
Summary: Ben Cartwright is taken hostage, forcing the entire Cartwright Clan to face some truths.


THE EMPTY PLACE ****

THE EMPTY PLACE

A Bonanza Story By Carla Keehn

This story is written for entertainment purposes only, not profit, and is not meant to infringe on any existing copyrights.

* * * *

The sky on the cold, moonless night was lit up with a luteous glow as the riders inched closer and closer. Silent and stony faced, they closed in around the boy and his father until they formed an impenetrable wall. Twelve year old Jamie Hunter studied their angry faces for a moment, then swallowed hard. 

One of the riders moved forward and shouted up at them. "Fraud! Charlatan! We don't want your kind here, Hunter!" 

The man next to Jamie looked up for a moment from the small leather bound book he had been reading; he gently patted the boy on the back. "You stay here and tend to the elixir, son. I'll take care of this."

The boy nodded wordlessly as he watched his father descend from the wooden platform that towered above the angry mob. Jamie rubbed his eyes and coughed as the fumes from the acrid mixture boiling in the large vat next to him drifted up towards him.

The man approached the riders cautiously. "I'm not armed, Sheriff. I was hired to do a job, to bring rain to these parts, not to make trouble for anyone."

The Sheriff straightened in the saddle. A thin smile spread across his face. "Were you now? Well, it's been four days, Hunter, and it ain't rained yet."

Another voice broke the tense silence. "Our cattle are dyin' - we ain't gonna listen to anymore of your worthless promises! We need rain and we need it now - -"

"Please, listen," the rainmaker replied calmly. "I can deliver the rain you need, but you have to give me time . . ."

In one swift move, the Sheriff drew the gun from his holster and took aim at the man standing in front of him. "Too late, Hunter. You rode in here and took our money but it ain't rained yet!" He gestured towards the sky. "Look at all them stars up there - - it ain't gonna rain, not now, not ever!"

"He's right!" Another voice joined in. "The man's a thief - and we know how to take care of thieves!"

"Get him, boys!" The Sheriff raised his arms and waved the men forward into action.

A handful of riders broke away from the pack and circled around towards the ramshackle wagon that served as home for father and son. Several of the men held their torches to the top of its frayed canvass covering. The canvass burst into flames; the tongues of fire spread quickly, eager to devour the rest of the wagon. 

The desperate rainmaker watched in agony. "No, wait!" One of the men yanked the book from his hand and tossed it to the ground in anger. Hunter felt a sharp pain as several others pinned his arms behind his back. "I can't help you if you destroy everything . . ."

Fed by anger and fear, the townspeople ignored his pleas and began advancing towards the platform. 

From his vantage point, Jamie shuddered at the destruction going on below. He saw his father look up at him.

"Run, Jamie! Get away, son, hurry!"

The boy scurried down the ladder, stopping at the bottom. He glanced back; his blood ran cold at the sight of the Sheriff tightening the noose around his father's neck. "No - Don't hurt him!"

"I said run, boy!" His father shouted angrily at him. "Now, before it's too 

late - -"

The air was heavy with black smoke from the fire that was consuming the platform. Near by, the wagon had been reduced to a smoldering pile of charred debris. 

Bewildered, Jamie looked around. "Pa!" Arms were reaching out of the blackness towards him. He shouted as he shrank away in fear. "Don't let them hurt me! Pa . . ." 

"Jamie! It's all right, son." The boy moved towards the comforting voice that was offering him shelter from the horrifying scene from which he was trying to escape.

"Pa . . ." he murmured again, "Pa, don't let them hurt me . . ."

Ben Cartwright swallowed hard. _Another nightmare . . ._ _But why? Why have they returned after all this time . . . _Although Jamie had struggled with adjusting to the structured family life on the Ponderosa that was so different from the nomadic days of his childhood, the past six months had been relatively trouble free.

Protectively, he wrapped his arms around the frightened boy. "Shh, I'm here, son, I won't let anyone hurt you . . ." The boy's uncontrollable shaking begin to subside. Cartwright felt Jamie's body relax against him. 

"Pa? I heard yelling, what's going on?" 

The door creaked slightly and Ben Cartwright turned his head. The sight of his youngest son, Joseph, clad only in a half buttoned long johns top and bottoms, forced a smile from him, in spite of the worries that beset him at that moment.

"I'm sorry if all the noise woke you up, Joe."

"That's okay, Pa." Joe ran a hand through his already tousled hair and sat on the edge of the bed next to his father. "Don't tell me Jamie had another one of those dreams."

Ben nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I wish we knew what was causing them, so we could help him."

"Yeah . . . poor kid." Joe murmured, his eyes coming to rest on the sleeping boy.

"Go on back to bed, son. I'll be doing the same thing shortly."

"You sure you don't need any help, Pa?"

"No, I don't think so." He patted Joe on the shoulder. "Go on . . ."

"Good night, Pa." 

"Good night, Joe." 

Ben watched Joe make his way down the hall, then looked down as Jamie first mumbled inaudibly then began to stir.

"Pa . . ." Jamie wearily glanced around in confusion, then the older man saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Mr. Cartwright . . . what happened?"

"I heard you call out; you must have been having a bad dream." He gazed at the boy with concern. "How do you feel?" 

"Okay, I guess. I'm sorry, I guess I woke you up."

Ben frowned. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He could tell by Jamie's sagging shoulders and hollow-eyed look that the nights of interrupted sleep were beginning to take a toll on him. "Jamie, what's wrong? I don't . . ."

Jamie shook his head quickly in denial as he abruptly pulled away from the older man. 

"There's nothing wrong - -I just had a bad dream is all."

"You told me that three nights ago, when this first happened. But I can't believe that now." He had hoped that, after all this time, Jamie would confide in him rather than force Ben to drag whatever was wrong out of the boy. "Son, listen to me, please. I want to help you, but I can't unless you tell me what's bothering . . ." 

Tears sprang into the boy's eyes. He felt overwhelmed by feelings that he couldn't understand or put into words.

"Jamie, please, don't push me away. I don't like to see you upset like this - let me help you."

The boy turned away for a moment, then sank down into the pillows. " . . . I'm tired, I 

don't feel like talkin' anymore."

Ben let out a breath, then nodded slowly. "All right, Jamie, but we're going to have to talk about this sometime. You won't feel any better inside until you do." He patted the boy on the back. "Get some sleep. I'll be up reading for a spell, if you need me. Good night, son."

"Good night." In the darkness of his room, Jamie pressed his face against the pillow and suppressed a sob. _He - he called me son . . ._ the boy thought in anguish. He sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Then he got up, opened the top drawer of the dresser and reached into the back of it.

The charred leather book that he pulled out of the drawer had once held the secrets to his father's rain making profession. Now it was just a reminder of the life he had left behind him. He used to look at the book all the time; it had made him feel comfortable in his new surroundings after coming to live on the Ponderosa. But then, with each passing day, the book had become less important. 

He hung his head in shame. Guilt. The guilt he felt gnawed at his insides, as it had for the past three days, ever since he had realized that he was beginning to call the man who had just left him Pa. Suddenly, whenever he thought of having a father, he wasn't thinking of the man who wrote the book clutched in his hands; he was thinking of Ben Cartwright . . .

* * * * 

The next morning, Ben Cartwright took a sip of coffee as he watched the morning sky brighten over what promised to be a beautiful early spring day. He took a deep breath of the cool morning air and sighed. He was a man who knew he had been blessed many times over and never was that more apparent to him then when he looked around and appreciated anew the dream around him that had become a reality, the Ponderosa. And his sons. They were the only thing he valued more than what he had worked for a lifetime to carve out of the harsh Nevada territory.

The sound of a lone bird calling out into the morning stillness caught his attention. It was a new day. Yet he still felt himself troubled by events of the past.

Cartwright, along with most others, had been skeptical when ranch hand Dusty Rhoades had ridden into Virginia City with young Jamie Hunter almost a year ago. At the time, Virginia City had been experiencing one of the worst droughts in its history. Although his father had just died, Jamie had been eager to prove that he was not the fraud that a man of that profession was thought to be. Dusty Rhoades soon found that he had gotten more than he bargained for by promising Jamie's father that he would look after the stubborn boy and had appealed to Ben for help.

He had never believed that it was possible for a man to make rain. However, he felt drawn to the boy whose faith in his father had never wavered despite repeated attacks on the man's character. He had worked with Jamie and Dusty for three days. Just as the ranchers had lost their patience, the rains had come to Virginia City. Later, Jamie agreed to stay on at the Ponderosa with Ben Cartwright and his family.

It was during those three long days and nights that he had first witnessed the virulence of the dreams that plagued the newly orphaned Jamie Hunter. He had comforted the boy that first night just as he had many nights since. As Jamie had become more settled into his new life, Ben had come to realize that the compassion he had felt for the boy and his circumstances was changing into something more.

"Good Morning, Pa - you're up early." 

Ben turned; he had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the sound of the front door opening. "Good morning, Joe." He nodded in agreement. "Yes, I thought I'd get an early start today, tend to some things before I leave for Carson City later this morning." He frowned. "The more I think about it, though, the more I don't like the idea of leaving right now."

Joe gave his father an exasperated look. "You were looking forward to this trip, weren't you, Pa? You know Hoss and me will look after things around the ranch."

"I'm not worried about the ranch, Joe. I know that you and Hoss are perfectly capable of looking after things here. I was thinking about Jamie."

"You didn't get anything out of him last night, about what was bothering him?"

"No. I think he came very close to telling me, but there's something holding him back." Ben shook his head. "He's afraid of something - or someone - and I don't know what to do about it. I've tried not to push Jamie because I didn't want to make him feel like I was trying to replace his father. But . . ." 

"But you're starting to feel differently about things, aren't you, Pa." 

Ben looked at his son in surprise. "Has it been that obvious?"

"Hoss and me kind of got the feeling that something was happening. We weren't sure until we heard Jamie call you Pa the other day and you didn't object." 

"Does that idea bother you, Joe? I need to know how you and Hoss feel."

He shook his head. "No, Hoss and me, we're real fond of Jamie, you know that." Joe gave his father a sobering look. "You know, Pa, maybe that's your answer."

"What do you mean, Joe? I'm not sure that I follow you."

"Well, if your feelings towards Jamie have changed, maybe his are changing too. Maybe he's having a hard time dealing with what's happening between the two of you." He thought for a moment. "If that's true then going to Carson City is the best thing you can do. That will give Hoss and me a chance to talk to him. It might be easier for Jamie to talk to us about how he's feeling if you're not around."

"It's worth a try, Joe. I know that we can't leave things as they are." He patted his son on the back, proud of the man that he had become. _Someday Joe's going to make a good father,_ Ben thought with a smile. "All right, that's what we'll do. It's probably time for us to go in - I'm sure that Hop Sing has breakfast ready."

* * * * * * 

Several hours later, Joe and Hoss watched silently as their father completed the final preparations for his journey.

"Where's Jamie?" Hoss asked Joe, "Ain't he even gonna say goodbye to Pa?"

"No, he's still sleeping. Pa said to leave him be."

Hoss gave his brother a determined look. "Well he ain't gonna be sleepin' long 'cause you and me is gonna get to the bottom of things while Pa's away."

Ben Cartwright gave the saddle on his horse one final check then looked up at his sons. 

"Well, boys, I think I'm ready."

"Have a good trip, Pa," Hoss said. "And don't you worry none 'bout a thing, Joe and me will do just fine. Ain't that right, little brother?"

"Yeah. Hope everything goes well at the Cattlemen's Association meeting, Pa."

"I know that the Association would do just fine whether or not I'm there, but I think you're right, it's best that I go." He got on his horse. "I'll see you boys in a couple of days."

At that time of day there were very few travelers on the dusty road that went from Virginia City to Carson City. Even so, Ben Cartwright was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the man and woman standing by the wagon at the side of the road until he was almost upon them.

"Mornin'," Ben said, tipping his hat to the couple, "Looks like you could use some help."

The thin man wiped his forehead with a red kerchief. "Sure could, mister. My wife's ma, she's real sick. We gotta get to Carson City, soon as we can." The nervous looking woman next to him nodded silently in agreement.

"Well, let's see what we can do," Ben replied, dismounting from his horse. He bent down and looked at the broken wheel. He looked at the man and frowned. "Not sure there's much hope for this one . . ."

The man edged closer as he slipped the gun out of the holster at his side. "We sure 'ppreciate any help you can give us . . ." He brought the gun down hard on the back of the older man's neck.

The body slumped to the ground. The man rolled Ben over, then he and the woman eagerly removed a wallet and some papers from the inside pocket of the unconscious man's vest.

"Well, lookee at this, there must be two, three hundred dollars here!" The man shoved the wallet in his shirt pocket, then looked at the papers and frowned as he read.

"We sure picked a good one," the woman agreed.

"Better than you know." He thrust the paper in the woman's face. "Look at what it says in this here paper." 

She quizzically looked at her companion. "Ben Cartwright . . . You mean this here's the feller that owns that big spread out Virginia City way?"

"Sure 'nough. We're rich, Becky. As long as we got him, we're rich!" The man rose to his feet, tossing the papers into the grass. "C'mon, we'd better git." He untied Buck's reins from the wagon and led Buck, along with the horse tied nearby, over to the woman.

"What about him, Matt?" The woman asked.

"He's goin' with us, what do ya think?" The man grunted, hoisting Ben's unconscious body over the side of the horse. The man dug his heels into the horse's side and the two riders took off down the road. 

* * * * *

It was late in the afternoon and the sun was starting to sink low in the sky when Joe and Hoss returned to the house from their days work. 

"We got a lot done today, that should make Pa happy," Joe commented as he dismounted and tied the horse's reins to the hitching rail.

"Yeah . . ." Hoss agreed distractedly, his eyes wandering.

Joe turned his head towards the barn, trying to see what had attracted his brother's attention. He caught a glimpse of Jamie, who was cleaning one of the horse's stalls.

"Look at him, Joe, " Hoss commented, "he looks more nervous than a turkey on Thanksgiving Day. Now's our chance . . ." 

"Wait a minute, Hoss," Joe replied, grabbing his brother by the sleeve. "We're not going to get anything out of him, not that way."

"What are you sayin', Joe? We ain't got much time, Pa's only gonna be gone a couple of days and . . ."

"I know all that - just listen to me a second. I've been thinking about what Pa told me this morning, about Jamie almost telling him last night what was bothering him."

"You mean after he woke up?" 

"Yeah, don't you get it, Hoss? Right now, he's not going to be much in a mood for talking, especially if we just walk right in there and try to force something out of him. Later on tonight he might be more anxious to tell someone about it. " 

"That's only gonna work if he has another one of them nightmares." Hoss frowned. "I don't know, Joe . . ."

"Trust me, Hoss - whatever Jamie's keeping inside has got him shook up bad. He's gonna have to tell someone soon, whether he wants to or not."

Hoss nodded. "Okay, Joe, but if you're wrong then we agree that tomorrow we're gonna handle this my way."

"Agreed. But I've got a feeling it's not going come to that, Hoss . . ."

* * * * 

Later that night, in the agony of his mind, Jamie shivered as he peered into the murky darkness that descended around him. _It's just a dream, _the boy thought, taking a deep breath, _it's not real . . ._

As he moved through the velvet blackness, feelings of dread and weariness weighed heavily upon him. Jamie longed to escape but knew that he couldn't. He would have to face whatever was waiting for him in the darkness.

A ghostly voice penetrated the eerie silence. "Jaaaamieee . . ." 

The boy stopped at the sound of his name. He swallowed hard and looked around nervously.

"I've been waiting for you, son . . ." 

"Pa?" Jamie whispered.

"I'm ashamed of you, Jamie. . ." The melancholy voice continued, inflicting more pain on the boy. "So ashamed . . . wanting another man to be your pa, well that ain't right, son . . ."

"I never said that!" Jamie protested, looking around wildly. "Not to anyone!" His heart pounded with fear; someone else knew the secret he had been fighting so hard to keep hidden.

"No need to say it out loud, boy, it's what you been thinking. And I aim to put a stop to it - you're coming with me, now . . ."

"No - I don't want to leave!" The boy shouted, shaking his head furiously. "I don't want to hurt you, Pa, but I - I like having a family. Hoss and Joe treat me like their brother. And Mr. Cartwright, he treats me like a . . ." He stopped suddenly, feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The voice became hard. "Like a son? Can't be that way, Jamie, it just can't 

be . . ."

"He's lying to you, Jamie." Ben Cartwright stepped out of the shadows. He drew himself up and gave the boy a piercing look. "You're my son now - not his. You know that and I know that. Now come along . . ."

The words battered against Jamie, paralyzing him with fear.

His father's voice returned, more persistent than before. "It's wrong, Jamie, I'm tellin' you it's wrong . . .you're coming with me . . ."

"No, please!" Jamie shouted, backing away, "I need time to think . . ."

Cartwright thrust his hand out towards the boy and began taking slow, decisive steps towards him. "The time for that has past, son. You have a choice to make - - make it now . . ." 

"No - go away - - leave me alone!" He took off into the blackness trying to escape from the insistent voices that continued to haunt him. "Leave me 

alone . . ."

Someone grabbed him; the boy began to struggle. "Jamie!" A voice, different from the others, broke through his torment. "Jamie, stop strugglin', it's me, it's Hoss!" 

Hoss tightened his grip on Jamie as Joe walked into the room. "Here," he said, handing a small glass to Hoss. "See if you can get him to drink this."

Hoss took the glass and sniffed. "Whiskey?" he said, glancing at Joe warily.

"Just enough to slow him down so that we can make some sense out of what he's saying."

"Hoss?" Jamie stared blankly at him, trapped in the icy clutches of fear. His breath came in shallow gasps; beads of sweat ran down the boy's face. Then the words started pouring out all at once. "Hoss! Hoss - - they were both here! Make them stop, please, make them leave me alone . . . I can't choose between them, I can't - - I can't!" 

"You're right, we ain't gonna get nothin' out of him while he's this stirred up." Hoss sighed heavily. "Joe, you go on the other side, help sit him up." He cupped the boy's hands around the glass. "Here, take some of this, Jamie." Hoss continued to speak softly as he forced the youth to swallow mouthfuls of the whiskey. "There ain't no one here 'cept you, me and Joe. And you know that Joe and me ain't gonna let anybody hurt you." 

When the cup was empty, he set it on the night table. "Tell us what's goin' on, Jamie." 

"It's nothing," Jamie whispered hoarsely, "nothing . . ." He tried to break free from Joe's strong grip. "Let me go!"

Hoss adamantly shook his head. "We can't leave you be 'til you tell us what's botherin' you."

Jamie visibly shuddered as he choked back a sob. "I - I don't want to talk about it!"

"We have to talk about it," Joe pressed. "Otherwise you're going to keep having these nightmares, night after night, until you do." He felt the boy's body tense. "Is that what you want?" 

"No!" Jamie turned his head away from the two. "Please - - leave me 

alone . . . "

"We already figured out that this has something to do with Pa."

Jamie closed his eyes, his misery plainly visible. The escape he had been longing for was there in front of him; but the harsh words his father had uttered in the dream still rang loudly in his mind. He swallowed hard. "I can't tell you . . ." 

"Are you afraid of Pa, is that it? " Hoss continued. "Or are you afraid 'cause of how you feel about him?"

"I'm not afraid!" Exhausted and strained to the breaking point by the questioning, the fight drained out of the boy. "I'm not . . . " Jamie covered his face with his hands. His whole body began shaking as he began sobbing violently. 

"Shhh, it's okay, Jamie," Hoss said, drawing the youth towards him. 

He and Joe hugged the sobbing boy tightly, cementing the bond of brotherhood that they felt. 

"We're a family, Jamie, we gotta face whatever is makin' you feel so bad together," Hoss whispered fiercely, "but you have to tell us . . ." 

"It hurts so bad," the weeping boy blurted out, "I feel so mixed up inside and I don't know what to do about it!"

"It tears us up to see you this way," Joe said, tousling Jamie's red hair comfortingly. "Tell us - - tell us about the dream you had tonight . . ."

"They were both - - both there!" Jamie sobbed. "M-my Pa and Mr. Cartwright . . . They were tryin' to make me pick between them. I - I couldn't do it!" The memory sent a shudder through him. 

"What about last night - - and the other nights."

"The dreams were different, but - but they always ended the same. Pa would go away, but Mr. Cartwright was always there . . ." He buried his face deeper into Hoss's chest.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Jamie," Hoss said, looking anxiously at Joe over the boy's head. "You've been keepin' this inside for too long, you gotta let it out."

Jamie nodded in agreement, a look of pain on his face. "I - I don't feel so good, Hoss . . ."

"Shh, I know you don't." He felt a shiver go through the boy's body. Hoss tugged at the end of the comforter, then he and Joe wrapped the thick blanket around Jamie's thin body.

Jamie sighed as he snuggled down into the blanket and pressed closer against Hoss; for the first time in many nights, he felt safe. "I - I loved my pa. He wasn't the same kind of man that Mr. Cartwright is, but he did the best he could. I - I thought that just rememberin' what it was like to have a Pa would be enough, but it's not." He twisted his head back and forth. "It's wrong - - wrong to want to be someone else's son!"

"You ain't done nothin' wrong . . ." Hoss whispered fiercely. "Lovin' Pa and letting him fill the empty place in your heart that your real Pa ain't here to fill, that ain't wrong; that's the way it should be."

"You've always said how much your Pa loved you," Joe continued, "Don't you think that he's happy that you got people around you who love you and want to take care of you as much as he did?"

The boy slowly nodded his head.

"Maybe you oughta let yourself feel that way too."

"I want to . . . more than anything else . . ." 

Joe bit his lip thoughtfully for a moment. "Listen, I talked to Pa this morning before he left. He loves you, Jamie, the same as he loves me and Hoss. And I think he's afraid too because he doesn't know how you feel."

"I want to tell him," Jamie murmured. A warm drowsiness began spreading through him. "I wanted . . . wanted to tell him for a long time . . .but I - I didn't know how . . . what to say."

"Tell him the same way you told us," Hoss said encouragingly.

Jamie mumbled softly. " . . . want . . .to . . .tell . . .tell . . ." 

Hoss felt a deep breath escape from the boy then a stillness came over him. He looked down and gave a sigh of relief. "I think he's asleep, Joe."

Joe leaned his head against Jamie's and swallowed hard. "We should have seen this coming, Hoss."

"'Specially after we saw what was happenin' with Pa." Hoss said painfully. "Jamie's got every right to feel the way he does. I'm sure not knowin' what Pa's feelings are don't help none." 

"Pa's feelings aren't the only ones that have changed, Hoss." Joe said studying his brother's face. "But I'm guessing that you and I have felt that way for a while."

"Yeah." Hoss agreed. "I know that Pa didn't want to rush things, but things bein' as they are, you and me have gotta start lookin' after Jamie better." Hoss smiled slyly. "You sure you're ready for that, Joe, not bein' the little brother anymore? Bein' the older brother ain't as easy as you think."

"I think so, Hoss," Joe said solemnly. "It just feels right, you know what I mean?"

"I reckon it does. I'm gonna remember you said that the next time Jamie does somethin' foolish and Pa comes after us about it." Hoss began unwrapping the comforter. "Hey, pull them covers back, let's see if we can't get Jamie back in bed without wakin' him.." 

Joe pulled the sheet down. "What happens now?"

Hoss shifted the sleeping boy against the pillows, then took the comforter from Joe's outstretched hands. "We talk to Pa, just as soon as we can. I think it will be easier on Pa and Jamie both if we do." 

The sound of someone banging on the front door rumbled through the house.

Joe tensed. "Kind of late for callers, ain't it?"

"Yeah," Hoss muttered under his breath. "C'mon, let's go see who it is."

Hoss closed the bedroom door and the two Cartwrights went downstairs. 

Hoss opened the front door and peered out into the darkness warily. "Evenin', Clem. Little late for a social visit, ain't it?"

Clem Foster took his hat off and nodded. "'Evenin', Hoss, Joe. Sorry to be bothering you so late, but something's come up that you boys need to know about." He reached into his vest pocket and took out a piece of paper. "This," he began, handing the paper to Hoss, "has been sitting in the telegraph office since early this afternoon. Sam's got a new operator there who didn't see fit to get this out to you right away."

Hoss unfolded the paper and read it. "Dadburnit, wait'll I get my hands on that Sam . . . take a look at this, Joe," he said, waving the paper his brother. "Pa never got to Carson City . . ."

Joe angrily crumpled the paper up. "He left early in the morning, right after breakfast. He should have been there before noon."

The Sheriff nodded slowly. "That's what I was afraid you were gonna say. I was hopin' to come out here and find that Ben had just decided not to go and didn't wire his change of plans on ahead to those ranchers he was supposed to meet."

Joe started towards the door. "I'll get some of the men together for a search party . . ."

"Now wait a minute, Joe," The Sheriff grabbed Joe's arm. "I understand how you boys feel, but there's no point in you going out there now. You're not going to find anything stumbling around in the dark."

Hoss glanced at the Grandfather clock by the door. "Won't be light for another three or four hours, guess all we can do until then is wait."

"Three or four hours?" Joe lashed out at the two. "Hoss, what you saying? Pa could be hurt . . ."

"Look, I've already wired the sheriff in Carson City, he's an old friend of mine. I gave him a complete description of Ben." Clem continued. "There's been a string of robberies out that way for the past three weeks and I don't want you or anyone else poking around out there alone."

"You think somethin' like that happened to Pa?"

"It's possible. We finally got a description of the robbers from the driver of the stage that was held up a couple of days ago."

"A good enough description to track'em down, you think?"

Clem shook his head. "I'm not sure. Trouble is they've been pulling these jobs then disappearin. There's a couple of small ranches out that way; might be that they're holed up there." He turned towards the door. "I'll probably know more in a couple of hours. In the meantime, you two just take it easy. Be in front of my office at first light; the search party'll be ready to leave by then."

"All right, Clem. We'll be there." Hoss opened the front door. "Thanks for comin' by."

"Don't you worry, boys," Clem said, "We'll find your Pa . . ."

A couple of hours later, as the darkness of the night sky began to disappear, Hoss slowly led the two horses out of the barn. The front door opened; he looked up and saw Joe come out of the house, carrying a burlap bag.

"Here's your breakfast," Joe said, tossing the bag to his brother. 

"Thanks. You talk to Hop Sing?"

Joe nodded. "I told him that Jamie was up sick in the middle of the night and probably wouldn't feel like doing much today."

"Good - Hop Sing'll look after him real fine. Jamie still sleepin'?"

"Yeah, I just checked. I didn't see any sense in waking him, it's gonna be hard enough on him when he finds out why we left." 

"Dadburnit, Joe, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we already agreed that we can't bring him with us; Pa'd skin us both alive if we brought Jamie along, you know that."

"I know." Joe took the reins in his hands and gave his brother a downcast look. 

"We're gonna find Pa, Joe. I don't care how long it takes, we ain't gonna rest until we find him." Hoss gave Joe a pat on the back. "Mount up and let's go. Clem'll be waiting for us."

* * * * *

Ben Cartwright groaned as he shifted uncomfortably on the hard surface beneath him. For a minute, with his eyes closed, the tantalizing smell of food and the sound of the crackling fire made him think that he was back home on the Ponderosa.

An agonizing pain throbbed in his head. Then voices, loud and angry, began filtering through the haze that clouded his mind.

"You're fools, the both of you!"

Cartwright forced his eyes to open halfway. He saw three people, two men and a woman, standing in front of a roaring fireplace, raging at each other.

"What did you expect us to do?" The man he had stopped to help on the road was speaking. "He's worth money, ain't that what we're after? I'm sick of this - - holdin' up stagecoaches and the like. Becky an me are tryin' to get enough money so's we can get to Mexico and that ain't gonna happen, not unless we go after something big, like him!"

"You got the money he was carrying, didn't you? You knew going in this wasn't going to be easy. Besides, by using my ranch as a base, I'm taking the greater risk - - Besides, you knew all along what my cut of the take would be."

Hollister spat on the floor in front of the man. "Risk . . . you ain't takin' any risk. Every sheriff between here and the border is looking for me an' Becky - not you! What risk are you takin'?"

"The penalty for aiding a fugitive is just as harsh as what you're facing, Hollister. Things have been going along fine but you had to go and get greedy; now we got the problem of what to do with him!" 

"Since when did you start carin' so much 'bout what happens to other people, Fletcher?" The man gave a hearty laugh. "So we collect the money and kill him - so what?"

"I should have left you two right where I found you - - rotting away in that jail in 

Montana - -" Jason Fletcher scowled as he tensely fingered the gun holstered at his side. "Look, Hollister, I want the money as much as you do, but Cartwright's an important man. Suppose his kin decides not to pay - they'll have the law hunting us like dogs!" Fletcher sighed heavily. "All right, we can't do nothing about it now. Go out to the barn, make sure his horse is well out of sight, just in case someone comes nosing around." 

Cartwright felt the ground beneath him rumble as the sound of thunder echoed through his mind. A flash of lightning lit up the night; he glanced outside and briefly saw a barn and several other buildings, what looked to him like the makings of a substantial spread.

"Storm's comin,' Hollister muttered.

"Yeah, been threatening to all afternoon. Go see to that horse, then turn in for the night. We're all gonna have a busy tomorrow."

"What about him?" Matt Hollister said, warily nodding his head towards Ben.

"I think I can look after one man by myself, especially one that's tied up," Fletcher replied, his jaw tightening in anger. "No go on, do what I told you." He grabbed the woman by the elbow and gave her a hard look. "Talk some sense into him, Becky - - He pulls another stunt like this and I'll let the law take care of the both of you. You make him understand that."

The woman looked at him fearfully and nodded. Then the two left the house, slamming the front door loudly behind them.

Fletcher ran a hand through his sandy colored hair then relaxed. "Well," he said in a culture tainted voice, "good evening, Mr. Cartwright. I was beginning to think that you might not wake up." 

"What - what happened?" Cartwright murmured, "Where am I?"

"You're a guest at my ranch, just a few miles outside a Carson City."

"A guest . . ." Ben muttered, glancing down; his arms and feet were bound by heavy rope. "You've got a strange way of treating your guests, Mr . . .?" 

"Fletcher, Jason Fletcher. I'm glad to see that the blow to the head Matt gave you didn't damage your sense of humor, Mr. Cartwright." The stocky man smiled. "As for the rest, I think that a man as smart as yourself has figured that out by now."

Ben painfully nodded his head. "You and your friends figure to get some money for me."

"So it would seem," Fletcher muttered absently, staring at the closed door. "Your kin will pay, won't they?"

"My sons," he replied, weighing his words carefully, "will keep their word, if you make a deal with them. But they'll expect you to keep yours."

"Meaning they'll expect to get you back alive and in one piece," the man said. "I'm afraid that Matt is not quite as educated as you and I are - it might be difficult to convince him to agree to something like that." Fletcher looked at Ben questioningly. "Of course, you may be wrong and them sons of yours won't be quite as anxious to get you back as you think they will be. Maybe they're already busy dividing up all that money of yours."

The man's insinuations made him bristle; Ben gave his captor a hard look before replying in a terse voice, "They'll do as you ask." 

A jagged bolt of lighting danced across the sky, diverting Ben's attention. He was filled with a sense of despair. He knew that Hoss and Joe were out there somewhere, in the darkness, searching for him just as they had probably been searching all day. No storm, no matter how intense, could make them turn back. And Jamie. Heartsick, Ben thought about the terrors the boy would be forced to face alone that night. His sons - - Hoss, Joe and Jamie - - He had been a fool not to give in to his feelings earlier and tell Jamie how he felt. And now he might not ever get another chance . . . 

* * * * 

That night, in his mind's eye, Jamie felt the tomb-like silence in the ranch house closing in around him. 

He was alone . . . totally alone . . . the emptiness pricked at him like a red hot poker. 

"Hoss? Joe?" The youth called out fearfully. _They must be here somewhere,_ Jamie thought anxiously. _They wouldn't leave me here all by myself . . ._

Unseen hands propelled him towards the stairs. He took the steps at a lumbering pace, in dread of what lay ahead. 

"Jamie - - in here . . ." Hoss's voice called out to him just as he reached the top of the steps.

The boy turned his head and saw a door standing open at the end of the hallway. "Hoss?"

Hoss called to him again, more urgently. "In here - - hurry . . ."

He moved swiftly towards the open door. A spasm of terror rose up inside of him as he stepped into the room.

He saw Hoss and Joe solemnly standing next to the body of their father, their faces set in hard masks. 

Hoss looked at the boy coldly. "You're too late, Jamie . . ." He nodded towards the bed. "Pa's dead . . ."

"What?" Jamie looked at the two in disbelief then reached out towards the still body. "He - he can't be dead!" A penetrating coldness filled the room, causing a shiver to travel up Jamie's spine. 

Joe shot the grieving boy an accusing look. "You waited too long . . . Now he's dead and he'll never know how you felt about him . . ." 

"No, he's not dead - he's not!!" The boy broke down, shattered by his loss. 

"No . . . No!"

"You had so many chances to tell Pa how you felt, Jamie . . . So many . . ." Joe shook his head sadly. "But you didn't do it . . . Now he'll never know . . ." 

Jamie began weeping unashamedly. "Pa! Pa - - please - - don't leave me - - I didn't get to tell you - - how much I want to be your son - -how much I love you - -" He reached out to the two brothers for comfort. 

Hoss and Joe rigidly stared straight ahead, unmoved by the boy's grief.

"You waited too long . . ." Hoss said. "He'll never know . . . Never . . ."

"No - don't say that - don't say that!" 

Jamie bolted upright in his bed, his body shaking uncontrollably, rocked to the core by his dream. He swallowed hard, then shrank back against the pillows. _It can't be too late,_ he sobbed, tears running down his face, _it can't be . . ._

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Joe Cartwright patted Cochise's head affectionately as the horse whined nervously about the approaching storm. "Easy . . ." He crooned softly, looking at the makeshift shelter he had constructed for the two horses. _It'll have to do . . ._ he thought to himself. 

He felt weighed down by fatigue. It had been a long and discouraging day. Despite hours of searching no one had turned up any clues that might explain the disappearance of his father.

Joe looked up at the sky and frowned. It hadn't helped that the weather had worked against them all day. The clear skies of early morning had quickly given way to the dark storm clouds that thundered above. Several times, they had been forced to stop, unable to do any tracking in the squalls of driving rain that had beat down upon them.

He heard Hoss call out to him. "C'mon, Joe, it's gonna start comin' down again, any minute . . ."

By the time Joe had sprinted back towards the camp, large drops of rain had begun falling. He crawled under the lean-to Hoss had built, shifting uncomfortably as he rested his back against the hard tree.

"Here," Hoss said, holding out a tin cup, "I saved you what was left of the coffee."

Joe took a sip of the lukewarm liquid. "You make terrible coffee, Hoss, but thanks."

Hoss frowned as he looked out into the darkness. "I've been sittin' here wonderin' how Jamie was doin'all by himself."

"Yeah." Joe said. "I've been doing the same thing. I was hoping that talking to us helped him some, but I think the only thing that's really gonna help is talking to Pa." He swallowed hard then glanced at his older brother in visible agony. "What are we going to do, Hoss?"

"I don't know, Joe," Hoss said, looking discouraged. "I've gone over it in my head a thousand times - we must have missed something . . ." He turned to face his brother. "I know Pa's out there, somewhere close. I can feel it."

Joe set the cup down. "But where? We've searched every square inch of ground between here and the Ponderosa."

"No tracks, nothing," Hoss continued, muttering under his breath. "He couldn't have just disappeared."

"Face it, Hoss, we're following a cold trail. Clem said he's thinking about taking the men back to town after we check out that other ranch tomorrow morning."

"Don't matter what Clem thinks - we ain't his deputies. We're gonna keep lookin' with or without his help."

"They checked out the old Ellis place this afternoon. Didn't find anything except a heap of falling down buildings."

"What about that other one? The spread that old Mason Fletcher had?"

"Clem told me today that Fletcher died about a month ago. Thinks the place is deserted."

"That don't mean nothin'. If Pa was hurt, it would be a place he could rest up at."

"Yeah . . . " Joe looked down at the ground. "What if he's not there, Hoss?"

Hoss glanced at his brother anxiously. "I - I don't even want to think about that." He reached over and tossed a bedroll towards Joe. "I reckon we'd best turn in. We got another long day ahead of us tomorrow . . ."

"* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Jason Fletcher bent down and began loosening the ropes around the older man's hands. "You'll have to excuse my bad manners, Mr. Cartwright. We enjoyed a kettle of that fine stew that Becky makes for supper. I'll get you some."

Ben gingerly rubbed the red welts on his wrists as he took stock of his new surroundings, searching for something that would tell him more about the man who was holding him prisoner. The large front room of the farmstead home with its simple oak furnishings gave Ben a comfortable feeling. On one of the walls hung an elaborate sampler with the words "God Bless Our Home" stitched on it. Cartwright's eyes rested on the sampler for a moment then flickered around the room. Jason Fletcher didn't strike him as the kind of man who would be concerned about what God or anyone else might think of him. 

"Looks like you got a nice lookin' spread here," Ben commented, nodding his head towards the window. "Makes a man wonder why you'd take up stealing instead of ranching."

Fletcher gave the older man a thin smile. "I hate ranching - always have." He held out a plate towards the prisoner. "There are other ways to make money, faster ways."

"And stealing from innocent people is one of those ways?"

"Sometimes. When you've had to fight for everything for as long as I have, Cartwright, the way you get something loses its importance. The only thing that matters is taking what you want - -"

"Some might see things that way," Ben muttered, tasting a forkful of the stew. 

Fletcher picked up a battered coffeepot and poured out some thick brown liquid into a cup. "I grew up on this ranch, but I've been away for, oh, almost 20 years. Came back about a month ago, after I learned that the fever had taken Ma Fletcher and that worthless bastard of a husband of hers." 

"It sounds like you and your father didn't get along too well."

Another loud rumble of thunder cut through the night, making the windows rattle.

"Father . . .?" The man threw his head back and laughed. "Mason Fletcher didn't know the meaning of the word!" The man took a sip of coffee, then continued. "Some bleeding heart preacher convinced the Fletchers that it was their duty to take in one of the town's orphans. At the time, I was five years old and willing to do anything to be a part of a family." His voice took on a hard edge. "Yes, sir, they did their duty - I had clothes to wear, food to eat and a roof over my head at night. But that's where it ended, Cartwright. That's where it ended . . ." He got up and walked back and forth. "Course I didn't find that out till later." 

"Oh?"

"Funny, isn't it, how, without warning, a man's life can just up and change? Sometimes you get blindsided by it because you don't even see it coming. You ever feel that way?"

Ben took a deep breath then nodded slowly. "Yes, I have . . ."

"I found out the truth about where I stood in the family when I was six and had been with them for almost a year. The old man was trying to teach me how to milk a cow. I told you I hated ranching - I never was good at it, though I tried hard enough to like it, just to please him. We was talking, and I made the mistake of calling the old man Pa." Fletcher set his plate down and walked across the room to the china cupboard against one of the walls. 

Ben saw him open one of the drawers and pull out a silver-framed picture. He walked back towards him and held the picture out. "Here's a picture of them - look real family minded, don't they?" 

The faces in the fading photograph stared up at Ben in stern disapproval.

"That hard hearted mongrel told me never to call him that again. Said that he and the Missus had done their "Christian duty" in taking me in but that was as far as it went. Having me around made them look good in the eyes of the community and that's all they cared about."

Ben handed the photograph back to the man. "I'm sorry . . ."

"They both had hearts made of stone and there wasn't anything I could ever do to change that. But I didn't figure that out until I had wasted a lot of years trying." The angry man took the frame and threw it into the fireplace. The glass shattered and the picture fell into the waiting flames. "I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't let anyone ever hurt me like that again. Soon as I was able, I left this place. I only came back because I knew it would make the old man roll over in his grave to see me here in his house, using his name, all the things he said I never had any right to. That's when I hooked up with Matt and Becky and decided to start taking some of what I was owed. Kind of fitting, don't you think, taking from the same people that Mason Fletcher was so worried about impressing?"

Ben silently watched the ends of the picture curl and turn brown as the fire began consuming it. Outside the storm increased in intensity, almost as if it were fueled by the pent-up hatred released by the man's words. The disgust he had felt earlier changed to pity for this bitter man who had reached out in love and been cruelly rejected. The sting of that rejection had eaten away at Jason Fletcher's soul, making him what he was today; a man who saw no value in the life, a man who was willing to take whatever he wanted no matter what the cost.

__

Fear is such a powerful emotion, Ben thought to himself. His fear of being rejected by Jamie had kept him from telling the boy how he felt. It was only now, after listening to Fletcher speak, that he understood what pain he was causing Jamie. The fear stood between them like an invisible wall, a wall that they had both been hiding behind, each one too afraid to try and break through it. By keeping silent, he had caused them both so much anguish. _I have to find a way out of this . . . _he thought desperately, _I need to get back to the Ponderosa, to make things right, for Jamie's sake, as well as my own . . . _

"I'll take that plate and fork now," Fletcher said, holding out his hand.

Ben paused, trying to decide what to do. It was just the two of them; Even though Fletcher was younger, Ben thought that he still might be able to get past his captor and make a run for the barn. The silver haired man swallowed hard. 

A wave of nausea swept over him as the pounding in his head momentarily intensified. _Even if I did get past Fletcher,_ he thought weakly, _there's still the other two out back . . ._ There was no doubt in Ben's mind that Matthew Hollister would take great delight in gunning him down if he tried to escape. 

"Difficult decision, isn't it?" Fletcher said with a smile, as he studied the man intently. 

Cartwright glanced at the man in surprise.

"You're not a man who can hide his feelings easily, Mr. Cartwright. You'd do just about anything to get back to them boys of yours, wouldn't you? Even if it meant going home in a pine box." He took the fork and plate from the man's hand. "It's possible that you might be able to get by me. You might even be able to outsmart Matt, but I wouldn't bet on it, not as shaky as you look right now. But then what? How far do you think you'd get in this storm, with no supplies?" 

Cartwright's shoulder's sagged. "You're right. It would be foolhardy for me to try anything, wouldn't it."

"Don't feel too badly, Mr. Cartwright. In a way, I envy those sons of yours - having a father that cares as much as you do." Fletcher set down the plate. "I'm going to have to tie you back up; hold your hands out in front of you." He picked up the rope again. "I suggest you get as much rest as you can - you're going to have a very important letter to write tomorrow." 

* * * * * *

The next morning, Joe Cartwright rolled over and squinted up at the sky above. The dark clouds of the day before had disappeared and given way to a cloudless blue sky. He reached over and gave his brother a jab in the back.

"C'mon, Hoss, time to get up."

Hoss groaned softly; Joe saw his brother's head shake back and forth. "Go 'way, Joe," he growled menacingly.

Joe poked him harder. "Get up! It's almost time to meet up with Clem and the others."

After a quick breakfast, they broke camp and rode off towards the rendezvous point.

Clem Foster pushed his hat up and looked warily at the two brothers. "You two look awful - you should have have spent the night in town instead of roughing it out on the trail last night."

"This ain't no beauty contest, Clem," Hoss said in a grumpy voice. "While you were resting up in town, we was able to cover more ground."

The Sheriff nodded. "I'm sorry, Hoss. We're all tired, it ain't going to do any of us any good to start in on one another." He surveyed the men gathered around him. "All right - we got about an hours ride to the Fletcher place." Clem sighed; he had often admired the way the Cartwrights looked out for each other. But he had other duties that needed to be tended to as well. "Look, Hoss, Joe - - If we don't come up with something this morning, I'm gonna have to pull these men in. Pretty soon, we're just going to be covering the same ground - - I'm sorry." 

"That's okay, Clem, we understand," Joe muttered tersely.

"All right then," Hoss said, straightening in his saddle, "let's get moving. We're wasting time sittin' around here talkin'!" He gave Chubb a sharp kick and took off at a hard gallop down the road . . .

* * * * * *

Several hours later, at the crossroads over Porcupine Creek, Joe kicked at the ground angrily and glared at Clem Foster. "What's taking that deputy of yours so long?"

"Relax," Foster said, squinting up at the sun. "He'll be along."

"Why are we sitting here, Clem? I thought you said yesterday that there was no one living at the Fletcher place?"

"Look, Joe - -" The Sheriff looked at the man in annoyance. "I told you already. Those two characters that have been staging those robberies may be holed up around here - we need to take some extra precautions, that's why I sent Sid on ahead to scout things out."

"But . . ." Hoss interrupted him before he could finish getting the words out.

"Dadburnit, Joe, Clem's just doin' his job - leave him be." He grabbed Joe's arm and gave his brother a reassuring look. "Go rest yourself in the shade for a few minutes and simmer down - the deputy'll be along soon." He saw a defiant look rear up in his brother's eyes. "Go on . . ." Hoss added, with a nod.

Joe let out a breath. "All right . . ." He pulled his arm free and turned, glancing at the road. A rider, clothed in a cloud of dust, was coming towards them at a frantic pace. "Hoss, look!"

The men turned; Clem narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That's Sid, all right, but who's that he's got with him?"

"Whoa!" The short man dismounted from the horse, motioning to several of the other men. "Help me, here, will ya? Watch it, she's an ornery one!"

The woman, her hands tied behind her back, a kerchief tied over her mouth, glared at the men around her murderously. 

"Where'd you find her?" Clem asked.

"In the barn. We were wrong, there's someone holed up at that place, looks like they've been there a while. She was tending to one of the horses; had a Ponderosa brand on him." Sid dragged an extra saddlebag from his horse and held it out to Hoss and Joe. "I grabbed this before I left."

Clem studied the Cartwrights' faces for a moment. "That belong to Ben?"

Joe and Hoss exchanged an anxious glance; Joe swallowed hard, running his finger along the ornate scrollwork embedded in the leather. "Yeah - Hoss and Jamie and me gave that to Pa for his last birthday . . ." 

"You see anyone at the house?"

"Couldn't get close enough - I had enough trouble keeping her quiet. Figured it be better to get back here, tell you what I saw."

Several of the deputies reached up and pulled the woman down. She struggled hard to free herself from their grasp. 

Clem looked at the woman a moment, then pulled the gag off of her mouth. "Well, well," he said, with a slight smile. "Rebecca Montgomery . . ."

"You know her, Clem?" Hoss asked.

The Sheriff nodded. "I should. Her pictures been circulating through the territory for the past year." He nodded towards the sullen looking woman. "Her and that husband of hers, Matthew Hollister, pulled that bank job in Montana a year ago, in addition to a few others. Shot the teller down in cold blood. They've racked up quite a list of charges within the past couple of years. Going by the description we got from that stage driver, we figured they might have a hand in these latest robberies." He grabbed the woman's arm. "It's a good bet that Hollister is holed up with you - who else is there? Start talking!"

The woman just grinned at them. "Matt'll put a bullet through Cartwright's head before any of you get through the front door - you just wait and see - -"

Clem scowled. "If that's the way you want to play it . . ." He glanced at the others. "All right, let's move out - -"

* * * * * *

Meanwhile, Ben painfully shifted himself up, glancing outside at the warm sunshine with longing. Although the ache in his head had eased somewhat to a dull pounding, every movement of his stiff muscles sent new spasms of pain coursing through him. 

The front door opened. Jason Fletcher strode into the room, carrying an armful of kindling. He tossed the pile onto the hearth.

"Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. You slept well, I trust?"

"I think," he replied, wincing slightly, "that you knew the answer to that question before you asked it." He pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Please, if you could just untie me for a few minutes, I'd be mighty grateful. I won't give you any trouble."

"All right," Fletcher said after a moment. "I think that you're entitled to that much."

Just as the man had finished loosening the ropes, the front door opened again and Matthew Hollister stormed into the room. He looked around wildly. "Where's Becky?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Matthew. I know she hasn't been here because I had to get the wood for the fire this morning." Fletcher glanced up at his agitated partner. "Did you check the barn? She usually takes care of the horses before fixin' breakfast."

Hollister nodded. "I already checked there."

"Hmmm." He stood up and looked around uneasily. "All the horses are still there?"

"Yeah - her things too. That was the first thing I thought of, that she might have hightailed it out of here."

"The bond of trust between you and Becky is so heartwarming, Matthew," Fletcher said sarcastically. He sighed. "I'm afraid we'll have to put off writing that ransom note until later, Mr. Cartwright." He cocked his head towards the rifle propped up against the wall behind the front door. "Matt, take that rifle, start looking around. Could be trouble brewing."

A flash of light outside caught Ben's attention. He turned his head slightly and, out of the corner of his eye, saw Joe dart across the yard and take cover behind the barn._ Hoss must be out there too . . . maybe others . . . I have to keep these two busy, give Joe and Hoss time to get into position . . . _

Summoning what was left of his ebbing strength, Ben pushed himself off the makeshift cot and rammed his body into Fletcher, pushing the man backwards, into Hollister. Caught off guard, the two fell backwards into the table in the middle of the room, sending the chairs sprawling in all directions. 

The two men frantically clawed at Ben as he strained to reach Hollister's discarded rifle. Suddenly, Fletcher scrambled to his feet and kicked the rifle out of Ben's reach. Panting for breath, he reached down and hauled Ben to his feet. Hollister was moving slowly, groggily trying to get to his feet. "Get up, Matt!" Fletcher paused and gave Ben an angry look. "You disappoint me, Cartwright - I thought a man as well heeled as you could be counted on to keep his word!"

Hollister was on his feet and shouting. "The longer we keep him around the more trouble he's gonna be!" He leveled the rifle at Ben's chest. "I say we kill him - dead or alive, we can still collect that money - -"

"For once, you make good sense, Matt," Fletcher muttered. "Real good sense . . ."

The crash of a breaking window drew their attention to a room in the back of the house. Suddenly, the front door burst open. 

Ben looked and saw Joe come through the door first, with Hoss following, guns drawn.

"Drop it - now!" Joe said tensely.

The muscles in Hollister's face twitched as he slowly tightened his grip on the trigger. He shot a glance at Fletcher.

"You're in luck, Cartwright, the cavalry has arrived," Fletcher spat out the words. "These must be those sons of yours we talked about earlier."

"Yes," Ben replied, swallowing nervously.

"You heard what my brother said," Hoss barked. "Drop them guns, now!"

Hollister became consumed by a crazed fury. "I'm not going back to jail . . ." he muttered savagely. "Not for you," he shouted, eyeing Fletcher menacingly. He pulled the trigger of the rifle and the deafening sound of gunfire broke the tense silence.

Ben gasped out loud and slumped against the wall, his hands wrapped around his chest. A melee broke out as Hollister and Fletcher tried to fight their out the door, past Joe and Hoss.. In a short time, the two brothers had overpowered the two wanted men. Fletcher made one last try for the door. Hoss grabbed the man with one hand, sending him crashing back down with little effort. 

Hoss saw the blood seeping through Ben's shirt and looked at his brother in alarm. "Joe - Pa's been shot . . ."

As the two gently rolled Ben over, they heard footsteps thundering onto the porch. Clem Foster looked at the man on the floor then yelled out to one of his deputies. "One of you ride into town, fetch the doctor - move!"

"Pa?" Hoss called softly as he unbuttoned Ben's shirt and began tending to the profusely bleeding wound. 

"I - " Ben whispered in pain, "I knew you'd boys would come after me . . . I knew it . . ."

"Just be still, Pa," Hoss replied, "It don't look like a bad wound. After a couple of days rest you should be right as rain."

"No," the father said, shaking his head. "I - I don't want to stay here . . ." 

Foster dragged the two semi-conscious men to their feet. "Get moving!" He ordered, roughly shoving them towards the door.

Cartwright pulled Joe close. "I have to get back to the Ponderosa, as soon as 

possible . . ."

"Just lay still, Pa," Joe cautioned. "If you're worried about what's going on at the ranch, one of us will ride back and tend to things while you rest up here."

"You don't understand," he continued, his voice heavy with emotion, "I have to get back . . . talk to Jamie . . . there's so many things . . . I should have said before . . . shouldn't have waited so long . . ."

Joe nodded. "Just rest, Pa. Hoss and me will get you home just as soon as we can." He took his father's hand in his, then looked at Hoss. "What do you think?"

"Dadburnit, Joe, you know Pa's about as stubborn as a mule. He ain't gonna get any rest, not if he don't want to be here." Hoss thought for a moment. "Besides, we both know he's right - he and Jamie have some unfinished business they gotta take care of . . ."

* * * * 

After a long day of tending to Ben's injuries and dealing with the Sheriff, the Cartwrights finally returned to the Ponderosa early the next morning. Totally exhausted, Hoss and Joe worked quickly to get their father settled. When they were finally finished, Joe heard the clock chime three times as he wearily followed Hoss up the stairs.

Several hours later, the same clock was chiming again as Jamie stopped on the middle stair landing and peered down. He saw the two hats hanging on the hooks beside the front door and drew in a sharp breath. _They're back . . ._ he thought to himself. With a heavy heart he turned and looked at the door at the end of the hallway. _I have to go in there . . ._ he thought anxiously, _I have to . . ._

Jamie stopped outside of the door to Ben Cartwright's bedroom and took a deep breath. He felt the panic rising up inside of him as he remembered the last time he had stood outside of the same door several nights before, in his dream. _I've gotta do this . . . _The decision made, the boy nervously pushed open the door and stepped into the room.

Jamie's heart stood still as he walked closer to the bed. _Oh, no . . ._ he thought as he reached out and lightly touched the blood stained bandages wrapped tightly around Cartwright's chest. _No - the dream - - it was real! I didn't get to tell him how I feel and now I won't ever get a chance to . . . _Unnerved by the sight of the injured man, Jamie lowered his head and began crying softly.

"Jamie . . ." The comforting baritone voice broke the stillness in the room. Cartwright reached out and reassuringly took the boy's hand. "Don't cry, son, I'm going to be fine . . ."

The boy raised his head and looked at the man in surprise. "You're . . . you're alive . . ."

"It's not a bad wound," he continued gently. "We had a hard ride back, I'm just tired right now." It did Ben's heart good to be able and sit and comfort Jamie without having the boy pull away from him as he had before. 

"I was so scared . . . scared that I wouldn't get to tell you how I feel . . ."

"I know," Ben said softly. "I had a long talk on the ride home with Hoss and Joe. They told me what happened the other night." 

'They did?" 

Cartwright nodded weakly. "They were worried - - they thought it might be easier for you - - for us both - - if they talked to me first." He looked at the boy in concern. "Jamie, there will always be a place inside your heart for the love that you have for your father. A love like that is special; it doesn't end just because something happens to separate a father from his son. And it doesn't end when you share that love with someone else." He shifted himself up against the pillows. "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?"

"I . . . I guess I was afraid to." 

A disquieting feeling sprang up inside of him. "Afraid of me?"

Jamie shook his head. "Not afraid of you . . ." He nervously swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. "I - I was afraid that maybe . . . maybe you didn't feel the same way I did . . ." 

Relief flooded through him. "I wanted to tell you so many times, Jamie . . ." Ben whispered, gently brushing the tears from the boy's face. "But I never did because I didn't want you to think that I was trying to force you to give me something that you weren't ready to give." 

Jamie nodded slowly as a quiet sense of peace spread through him; he wasn't afraid anymore. He believed with all his heart and soul that it was right to accept the love being offered to him and to freely give his love in return. The emptiness he had felt inside was gone.

Ben Cartwright looked at the boy tenderly; his heart aching at the pain filled expression on Jamie's face. More than anything else, he wanted to make the bond of father and son between them permanent, a bond that had been quietly growing for the past six months. Cartwright drew Jamie towards him. "I love you, son," he whispered intensely, hugging the boy tightly against him, his eyes closed. "Don't ever forget that - -"

Jamie's eyes lit up. "I love you too, Pa . . ."

The End


End file.
